Falling
by JMoonrise
Summary: Achieving their dreams was supposed to make them happy. It was everything they ever wanted, however the morning following the Academy Awards, Quinn begins to realize that fame and money don't mean anything after all, not when she's almost lost the love of her life after she willingly pushed her away three years ago.
1. Chapter 1

Normally, she avoided watching these sorts of gossipy sites. She had left that side of her back in high school when she decided to finally work on herself and stop worrying about what others were doing.

However, last night was the Oscars. She actively avoided watching it, but she couldn't help but want to view the results to see who the winners and losers were. What she wasn't expecting was the trending headline. It simply wasn't possible.

**Youngest EGOT Winner Rachel Berry Overdoses After Big Win**

With an article title like that, she couldn't help but click to read the full details. She told herself it was a way to satisfy her curiosity. What could drive someone to try and kill themselves after they've won an Oscar?

Without the slightest hesitation, she opened the article and quickly began to read about the elusive Rachel Berry.

_Rachel Berry took home Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Director, and Best Original Song. Her adaptation of her Original Pulitzer Prize, Tony Award Winning Musical Shining Star took home nine awards last night. Ordinarily, someone in Rachel's position would be celebrating on a complete high of achieving such success at the tender age of 30. _

_However, last night a 9-1-1 call was made from her home where the young actress, singer, and writer was hosting an after party. A source close to the star revealed the Oscar winner overdosed and was found unconscious in her bedroom, while her party was happening downstairs. _

_No news about her condition has been released, but Rachel is currently at the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center being treated with her family and close friends surrounding her. Her family plans to release a statement later today about her status, but in the meantime hopes fans will support their right to privacy. _

_Some will remember that she got her start on Broadway nearly ten years ago at the tender age of twenty in the revival of Funny Girl. Since then she's been a trail blazer with television appearances, movie roles, and a best-selling debut album. Then three years ago, Ms. Berry wrote and produced the story of her life. It was candid, bold, witty, and detailed her life growing up in Ohio with two gay fathers, the struggle of her mother appearing back in her life, her ambitious nature that often left her without friends, the bullying she suffered from her peers, the death of her former fiance, and how she wrestled with her own sexuality. _

_In interviews, Rachel has been open about not wanting to be type casted and that she battled with her sexuality because of what she'd grown up with. While she loves her fathers, she saw how people treated them and herself by being their child. She hated the idea of people feeding into the idea that her fathers were the reason she was attracted to women. It was something she heard regularly growing up in Ohio. _

_Rachel had been in a long term relationship with prominent actress and Emmy and Golden Globe Winner Quinn Fabray. The two had gone to high school together and if Shining Star is anything to go by had a turbulent relationship full of ups and downs with the two struggling to come to terms with their feelings. _

_As you'll already know, Quinn Fabray jump started her career after she was cast in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy The Thirteenth Sign after getting her degree in theater at Yale. She stayed on for three seasons before moving into drama on Fighting Freedom as the tough as nails lawyer Abigail Peters where she earned two Emmy's, a Golden Globe, and a SAG award. While starring on the show, she starred in her first motion picture The Great Divide. She received her first nomination for Best Supporting Actress. _

_She came out five years ago when she announced her relationship with Rachel Berry by attending the Academy Awards with Ms. Berry as her date. The two broke-up two years after that, and as far as anyone can tell wish each other well but haven't maintained any contact. _

_Rachel has had a few relationships since, but nothing lasting longer than a few months. For the last year, she has remained single and focused more on her career. She has opted to stay out of the spotlight and spends more of her time back in New York. Rumors had surfaced she was in the studio working on her second album, but we will have to wait and see. In the meantime, we wish Rachel a speedy recovery and all the best for the future. _

_We will provide updates as soon as we can. _

Tears fell in reckless abandon as she read the article. It couldn't be true, but as she went back to the previous page, she clicked on Rachel's picture with the trending icon. Several articles had already been published about the starlet's current status.

She should've been there for her, but here she was across town silently weeping over someone she willingly allowed to walk out of her life. She was a coward.


	2. Lonely

**Trigger Warning: There are mentions of suicide in this chapter and going forth. **

My first brush with consciousness was enough to send me back to my unconscious state. My lungs were on fire. They burned painfully, not the sort of feeling like when I've held a note for longer than I should have if only to prove my capabilities. My stomach wasn't feeling any better either. It was as if hot lava had been dumped down my throat and the sensation wasn't anything I wanted to repeat again.

I barely recalled the nights of the previous night. The applause and awards that I had yearned for since I was old enough to vocalize my dreams were a complete blur. I was surrounded by the attention of all my peers, the press, my friends and family, but all I could think was I was drowning.

Then again until it happened, I didn't know what drowning felt like. That was poor judgment on my behalf, then again if someone hadn't saved me, I would no longer be consciously aware of what it felt like. I wanted to sink into oblivion and forget my life. I didn't panic until it was too late. By then I had inhaled far too much water and the carbon dioxide in my bloodstream had done a number on me.

The moment that stood out in my memory was the coughing. I had never felt so tired in my entire life. By then my awareness was waning, but someone had called 9-1-1.

"I know you're not asleep. I mean you can pretend with me, but as soon as everyone comes back from eating, shit is going to hit the fan."

A tiny groan escaped me as I scrunched my eyes and blinked a few times. The lights were bright and disorienting. I hate hospitals. My throat still burned, but that was to be expected. "Watch your language," I croaked.

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit on the end of my bed. She didn't bother to conceal her concern. "I think I'm allowed to drop a few after this." Her eyes were wet, and I hated that I had done that to her. "I mean what the actual fuck? Rach, you won four freaking Oscars last night and well here we are." Her eyes roamed over our surroundings, finally landing on me. "Did y-you," she glanced down momentarily as if uncertain of her words or my reaction to them. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

I turned my head, unable to lie to her. Her hazel stare prevented me from lying to her.

"Oh."

I tried to sit up to console her or something to soothe the pain that I had voluntarily inflicted upon her. "It's not like that."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Then what was it like?" Her lower lip trembled as she tried not to cry.

All I seemed to do was leave a trail of misery and suffering in my wake. "I don't that I can fully explain it. You wouldn't really understand anyway. You're too-"

"Young, yes that's always been your reasoning about keeping tight lipped about your whole freaking life. But Rach, we are family. And I'm the least of your worries. Mom and Santana were the ones who found you last night after you disappeared. They were worried and obviously were right to feel that way."

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about their reactions. Santana was likely to go ballistic. She had been watching me a lot more closely as of late. She said it was lingering concern after the stress of the last few years and my inability to slow down. "How was she?"

My sister was never one to mince words much like her biological mother. She gave me the facts even when I didn't want to hear them. Her other mom likened it to Groundhog's Day once upon a time. "You're kidding right?" She asked me with a hint of incredulity in her tone. She was perhaps the kindest I could expect and that was saying something given the glare she had fixated on me. She really looked like she-who-shall-not-be-named.

I deflated under the heat of her gaze. "Yeah, I figured. Was she the one-?" I tapered off, hoping Beth would fill in the blanks of the previous night.

"Who drug your ass out of your ridiculously large bathtub and performed CPR? Or how about when she had to watch you cough out all that water. I mopped it up by the way. You dry heaved for quite a bit and then passed out. Everyone was so freaked out. Mom and your dads were crying. Santana was a wreck and Kurt wouldn't even come into the bathroom. He won't even come into your room."

I wasn't fully prepared to deal with anyone. Beth was enough to increase my overwhelming sense of guilt.

"The press thinks you overdosed."

"Not sure what's worse." I muttered.

She leveled me with a signature Quinn Fabray look, eyebrow included. "This isn't the time for jokes. Mom and your dads are already talking about treatment. Everyone thought you were okay, but well... " I urged her to continue with my eyes. "They went through your things and found your journal." Tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. "They think you need help, and they aren't afraid of getting you declared incompetent."

"Can you leave? Not that I don't appreciate your presence, but I would prefer to be alone now."

She was wise enough to know that I needed time to collect myself and just process everything that happened.

Last night was supposed to be the greatest night of my life. I had been working towards completing an EGOT since I took my first dance class. I knew before any of my peers what I was going to do when I grew up. I wanted to perform in front of the masses. I wanted to be the best, a legend like Patti, Barbra, Bernadette, and so many others before me.

I couldn't help but let my mind drift back to that conversation with Kurt and Mercedes back when we were juniors and everything was still ahead of us.

"_Do you think they were okay being single? I mean… well while it was when they were most successful, I can't help but think they were lonely. Success and fame are amazing, and the ultimate dream, but realistically, no one wants to be at the top without someone by their side." _

_While Mercedes made a valid point about our idols achieving success when they were alone, I couldn't help but think that none of them wanted to be that way. _

_Kurt and Mercedes stared at me as if they hadn't considered it from that point of view. While my single determination to have Finn as my boyfriend had detracted from my pursuit of my dreams, it brought an unexpected happiness to my life. I wasn't sure where we stood, and there were lingering doubts about my determined chasing of him, I didn't know how to let him go. _

_Mercedes crawled closer. "While we aren't Finns or Jesses, we will be there for you Rachel. You won't be lonely. I know it's definitely not the same thing, but if you'll have us, you won't be alone."_

_Kurt seconded her. "Alright now seriously guys am I just imagining things between myself and Blaine? Like did I really make up the whole thing in my head?" We giggled and smacked him with pillows for his one track mind. _

The problem was that none of us had experienced real love at that point. We were in a protective bubble where sure a relationship hurt when it ended, but it wasn't a crippling pain where you felt as if you had truly lost someone. There was a hole where they should've been. Worst was knowing they were alive, but there was little chance of anything happening. The first tear slipped through my lids and it wasn't long until I began to sob.

I wanted to hurt. Hurting meant I was alive. Contrary to my previous actions, I was relieved that I was alive. For the first time in a long time, the pain was good. It proved to me that I wasn't dead inside. I had been walking around in this haze where my day was preplanned. I was told where to go, what to do, what to wear, what to eat, and barely had any control over anything. It was all done for me. A decade ago, the idea thrilled me. Then again, I was naive enough to not understand the constraints of being a bona fide celebrity. Back then, I was mesmerized by it all with my head in the stars and only thinking about the glory. It was definitely part of the attraction.

Performing was the only thing I could envision myself doing for the rest of my life, but then the dream changed as I got older. I wasn't as single minded in my pursuit. There were new things to distract me. I had friends for the first time in my life. I had love interests and I wasn't alone with my dreams any longer. I had new goals.

Then there was her. Perhaps, she was my greatest mistake. I preferred to ignore the stirrings of regret, which was why I created a box for her. I stored away all of our memories, every thought or feeling she inspired me, and tucked it away somewhere safe. Regret was useless in the end.

I couldn't go back into the past and change anything. I had long ago accepted that for everything I gained, I also lost something.

Both my sophomore and junior year, I gained Finn, but experienced the heartbreak of loss. I received my dream role of Fanny Brice and then I lost Finn permanently. Even though we were no longer romantically entangled at that point, it was one of the most unexpected, soul crushing things to happen to me. By then I had given up on reconciling with him as we had gone our separate ways, but a part of me would always love him. I won an Emmy and two months later, Quinn and I were no longer together.

It would've been poetic in an extremely morbid way if I had lost myself last night after winning.

The real issue was that despite the accolades, the acclaim, I was yearning for something unattainable. Something I had to let go. Sometimes the past seemed more like a dream than reality. I would give everything up for that dream.


	3. Anxiety

**AN- I'm posting this early in celebration of Rachel's 25th Birthday, today.**

* * *

I struggled to process what I read. It was simply impossible, inconceivable even that Rachel Barbra Berry, the most self-assured, assertive, and forgiving person I had ever known had overdosed on drugs.

While it had been years as evidenced by the article since we had even spoken, I liked to think that I still knew her better than most, but this had thrown me. I was floored by the idea of Rachel even taking any sort of drugs. She didn't have the surgery for her tonsillitis until it came back a second time after she finished her run with Funny Girl. It was difficult to picture her swallowing any sort of pills given her belief in natural remedies.

It was unlikely that she was addicted to drugs as she feared anything that could potentially destroy her voice or ruin her career, which meant there was only one other option. It was the last thing I wanted to consider, however it made the most sense. Rachel was dramatic in all aspects of her life, and while it could be endearing at times, at others it was worrisome.

I didn't know how to get an update on her condition either as I had blown my bridges years ago with anyone in her friend group. It was laughable to even think about texting any of them because I knew what their responses would be. Her parents were likely to be unreceptive to me contacting them after all this time given the conclusion of my relationship with their daughter.

There was only one thing to do, which was to go to the hospital and hope they wouldn't throw me out.

I was facing several pressing issues with that scenario. The first was how to hide my identity. There was guaranteed to be press outside the hospital, waiting for any sort of scoop on Rachel. It wasn't everyday someone wound up in the hospital the night after winning four Oscars. People didn't do that. Rachel didn't do that, except she did. I was trying not to think about it. If I focused on it too much, I knew I would fall apart. I couldn't afford to do that without knowing how she was first.

Perusing my closet left me with a few clothing options as I had only recently returned home from filming a movie. I grabbed a Yale hoodie and a pair of jeans. It wasn't as if the press would expect me to show up given the insane amount of stories about our estrangement.

The other immediate problem I was choosing to ignore until I was at the hospital was the presence of her friends. They would close ranks as soon as they caught a glimpse of my face. They had told me in no uncertain terms that I was to leave Rachel alone after what happened that last year of our relationship. Santana made herself the clearest about her feelings for me after she shoved me into my pool.

It was all bullshit.

It wasn't as if I hadn't tried to contact her, but she had changed her number. She blocked me on all forms of social media. I didn't know her private accounts either. She lived in a gated community when she was in L.A. and in New York, she moved into a brownstone on the Upper East Side. She made it clear that I was no longer welcome in her life.

I smacked the dashboard of my car. "Fuck!" What if she died? Would I never get a chance to tell her I'm sorry and to explain it to her? None of this was fucking fair. My mistakes were sitting there between us and I hated it, not to say she hadn't made her own, but in terms of the demise of us, a lot of it was me.

When we were young, everything was easier. Our path was clear. Neither of us were famous. There weren't any expectations about what we should and shouldn't be. There weren't publicists and handlers telling us about how to act in public, dictating our schedules, and controlling every aspect of our public lives. I didn't need someone to manage my social media and fan mail for me. I could go on a date with my girlfriend without the fear of someone posting a picture of us on the Internet or a fan interrupting for an autograph. In the beginning, neither of us minded much because it was exciting to be recognized. We welcomed any opportunity to interact with our fans.

Back then, I could love without the world needing to know. Now, I rarely had the privacy I desired and cultivated in my youth. While I loved my job, it wasn't as glamorous as people believed. It could be completely hellish with all of the meetings, endorsements, contracts, and people using me for their own ambitions. Rachel and I used to dream about this when we were a bunch of nobodies in our college dorms, but the reality is not what I pictured. Who knew it could be so lonely at the top?

As a teen I strove to be the most popular girl in school, and as an adult I was amongst the top A listers. The meeting of dreams and reality was different than I expected. I thought achieving success meant something, but suddenly I was taken back to a bathroom where it all started.

"_You're the pretties girl I've ever met." I couldn't ignore the way my stomach fluttered and my insides warmed. "But you're a lot more than that." _

_No one had ever said that to me. My parents had praised my looks after my tragic past as Lucy. They preened and postured as soon as someone complimented them on their lovely daughter. They were proud as peecocks until they weren't. As soon as I disappointed them for the first time in my life, I sudddenly knew what it felt like to be unloved and unwanted. They made it seem as if my entire life was older because I had made a mistake. _

_Rachel was the only person who never treated me differently. She was the same as always, nice. I envied her for it. While she wasn't the troll I imagined her to be for so long, it wasn't her outward appearance people were attracted to; it was this light that emanated from her. She was a star. She was going places. _

_She never took my extreme bullying serious. It was over the course of the following summer that I realized why I behaved the way I did. I was like a little boy with a crush. I wanted her attention, but I didn't want her to know my feelings for her. Those were better kept hidden. It was easier to push her away than allow her to get close. I knew she desired my friendship, but I couldn't be near her without wanting more. _

"_I'd like to be alone now." I felt a pang in my heart at the disappointment on her face. She did her best to hide it. While she knew how to act, she could never conceal her feelings. Rachel had a glass face. She didn't care who saw her cry. _

_She nodded. "Anytime Quinn. It'll be okay you know. There's still next year." It was just like her to cheer me up when her own date had been kicked out as well and I slapped her. _

I told myself for a long time I hated her. Hate was an emotion I was familiar with. I used it as battle armor when I walked the halls of McKinley. I owned those halls and the student body feared me until they didn't. Returning to the top wasn't as pleasing as I thought it would be, and definitely put me in the path of Santana's wrath. I desperately wished my talk with Rachel had an immediate impact, but it didn't as soon as Finn dropped me. The worst part is that I didn't care about him, at least not in a romantic way. It hurt more that someone else was passing me over because they wanted someone better.

The real shock was that it was a combnination of Rachel and her mother who helped me turn things around. Shelby and I would never be close by any stretch of the imagination, but we cared about Beth and Rachel. We were cordial now during my visits with Beth. However, I could feel her glares like needles digging into my skin. I did my best to ignore it for the sake of our shared daughter. It took Rachel and Shelby reconnecting in New York to start patching up things.

It made me wonder if Beth and Shelby knew what happened to Rachel. Had Rachel's dads called them?

I shook my head to free myself from distractions as the last thing I needed was another car accident to derail everything. I drove in silence. It was calming. It still took me over an hour to get to the hospital with all of the traffic in L.A.

I threw my hood over my head and skirted around the foot traffic. My hair was in a messy knot and I was wearing my glasses, so there was less chance of someone recognizing me. My hair was also still dyed from my latest role until I get into the salon. It decreased the chances, but some fans always seemed to know.

Nearing the entrace, I held my breath. It was silly. I only released it once I was in the safe confines of the hospital. "Excuse me," manners went a long way. The nurse at the station glanced up at me. I flashed her a smile. "I'm here to visit a friend. She was admitted this morning."

She cleared her throat, her face flushed. "Uh.. um yes, patient's name?"

I shifted my posture and darted my eyes to make sure there was no one nearby to overhear. "Rachel Berry."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't give away that information with her family's permission. We've had a lot of fans coming in and out today trying to sneak in to see her."

I figured as much. I removed my hood and glasses. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head as she finally realized who I was. "Oh my god, you're Quinn Fa-"

"Shh," I glanced around to make sure no one heard. "Please, I don't want this to turn into a frenzy. I really am here to just visit Rachel."

"I heard you didn't talk anymore," she murmured softly to herself as began to type into the computer. "Guess that's what happens when you believe everything you read."

I thanked her for her help as I made my way to the elevators. I moved to the corner as the elevator began to fill up. It was somehwat claustrophobic having everyone near me. I squeezed myself through as soon as the elevator stopped on my floor.

I tried to pace myself on my way to Rachel's room so no one would notice me. As I neared the ward, my steps slowed and my breathing quickened. I hadn't seen her upclose longer than I cared to admit. At our reunion, I strayed towards one end of the room and she was at the other. Aside for our Glee friends, we didn't have too many people in common. I conversed with a few of the Cheerios who were never bullies in high school. They didn't fawn over me either; they simply enjoyed the chance to catch up on what transpired since we left the hallowed halls of McKinley.

If they noticed my lingering looks directed at Rachel, none of them commented on it. I appreciated their tact and ability to distract me. Awards shows were awkward to navigate. Luckily, we were rarely at the same ones.

It had happened a few times though that we were both walking the carpet within literal seconds of each other. The Tony's two years ago was absolute agony as Rachel arrived three minutes before I did. She caught my eyes and we both turned away to avoid any uncomfortable staring between us for we were aware enough of our surroundings. Interviewers loved a juicy story.

I was nominated for a play I had done during the summer interim of my show. Rachel was nominated for writing a freaking musical about her/our life. She didn't know, but I had gone to see it, twice. While it was fast tracked to Broadway, I had the impression it was the secret project she spent a lot of her freetime on. She was only looking for an ending. She was co-writer on almost all of the songs, except the main one, which she wrote herself. She won a Pulitzer. There were some Drama Desk Awards in there as well.

What I hadn't expected when the show was first previewing in Washington D.C. and San Francisco was Rachel's absence in the cast. She had forgone the spotlight in favor of being behind the scenes, which completely negated almost everything I knew about her. Sure, she was a team player when it was called for; she just never enjoyed swaying in the background.

Rachel was a recluse, making the appeal that much greater. Her debut album released two months ago to rave reviews and there was possible talks of a tour, but nothing was official as Rachel had all sorts of events scheduled already.

As selfish as it sounded, I hated she was doing so well without me. Watching her on the red carpet as she flashed her million dollar smile, batted her eye lashes, and giggled melodically tore me up inside. The only time I felt she wasn't as happy as she appeared was when her show face momentarily slipped as caught sight of me just behind her. It was only for a few seconds until a fake smile appeared and she thanks E! News for their time before moving down the carpet.

It was a punch to a gut to know that even in a professional atmosphere, she was unwilling to be near to me.

The music officially died that day. There were no more harmonies and melodies to fill the space. We were at the end of the piece where the music began to decrescendo. Rachel wasn't the only one who liked metaphors. The violins ceased their sweet melody and the flutes tapered off with their melancholic mourning. Anguish burst forth in the orchestra as my heart tore into pieces.

After that, we managed to never cross paths. Rachel wasn't at the Emmy's the year she won. She sent someone else in her place in case she won. She was in the early stages of shooting her first motion picture. We played cat and mouse. It worked for us. I think deep down we both felt the temptation of being near one another and how it was difficult to resist what existed between us.

The walk down the hall echoed with my sorrowful regrets. They taunted me. My lungs began to constrict and I felt like I was drowning. I stopped to lean against a wall to gather myself.

"In… out… in… out…" I repeated it like a mantra. I tried to clear my mind and steel myself against what was about to happen. "1..2..2." Ten minutes passed as I finally managed to calm myself. My therapist was going to have a field day at our next appointment when I told her about my anxiety attack.

The atmosphere of the hospital was stifling, however I had a mission. I had to see her. I had to know she would be okay. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before making my way down the hall again. I could do this. It would be fine.

I barely made it ten steps into the ward before I pushed against a wall. I blinked slowly, slightly disoriented by the shove, knowing it could've only come from one person. There really was only a single person in existence to check me like that. "Fuck, that hurt." I turned to face my assaulter. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl marring her features. Typical Santana. "I'll give you that one."

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve bitch showing your face here."

"How did you even know it was me?" It was a valid question given my attire.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I literally had to follow your ass around for two years. Besides who else with a Yale hoodie would be skulking around here like they own the damn place?"

I resisted the urge to slap her. It wouldn't be conducive, but she was so freaking hostile. "I just came t-"

"I know why you fucking came here. It doesn't change my opinion. I told you three years to leave her alone. She doesn't need to deal with any of your shit. She's got her own problems and doesn't need yours."

"That's not fair." I protested, crossing my own arms. "I still care about her. I get I'm not your favorite person, but you know how I feel about her. I couldn't not come."

Her face almost softened at my declaration. She only reinforced herself as she regarded me warily. "She's fine. You got your update. Now leave." She pointed to the exit.

I stayed where I was. I wasn't leaving. While I didn't have a right to the information I sought, something in me told me it would be a mistake to walk out of the door. I couldn't walk away this time. "I can't leave."

"I doubt she would even see you anyway, so I don't know why you're still here."

I frowned. "Is she not allowed visitors?"

"She.. is being Rachel, wait why am I even telling you this? You should be going. You're not needed."

I knew what being Rachel meant. Anyone from the New Directions could explain it. Rachel was being difficult, a diva. She wasn't reacting the way people would've preferred. "What's wrong? Please just tell me something Santana. I know things have been strained since everything." I waved my hand. We didn't need to discuss the details. "But as soon as I saw the article this morning, my heart has felt like somebody stomped on it."

Santana's eyes were calculating and I could tell she was debating on whether to share any information on Rachel's status with me. She was wavering, definitely on the fence. I kept my mouth shut. Her teeth worried over her lip, and I knew she almost had reached her decision. "Okay fine, if I tell you what happened, then will you leave?"

"I'll consider it."

It was the best offer she would get from me, and she knew it. There was never any arguing with me when I wanted things my way. "If you read that garbage about an overdose, it's just that."

My brow furrowed as I tried to work out the reason she would be in the hospital if she hadn't overdosed. "Then what happened? Was it serious?" I tried to hide the worry. I couldn't lose my composure.

She sighed. "You can't go sharing this with anyone. I mean it Fabray." I crossed my heart. "She disappeared from her party last night. There was barelly anyone left by that point anyway, but I was worried. She seemed off all night. Shelby and I went looking for her, and Shelby found her in the bathtub." Fear crept up my spine and I shivered. "She wasn't breathing. She tried to drown herself, now she won't let anyone aside from doctors and nurses inside her room."

I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes. I shook my head unable to believe what she told me. "N-n-no, sh-she wouldn't, couldn't do anything like that." I stumbled back into the wall, willing myself to remain upright. "You're lying." Only she wasn't. I could tell given the grim expression she wore. "Why?" I croaked. "Why would she do that?"

She looked at me sympathetically. I turned my head unable to meet her eyes. "She's been unhappy for a while. She's been wearing a mask. None of us noticed because she seemed like her usual annoying, perky self. Her parents want to put her in a treatment center where she'll be forced to address her issues. She kicked everyone out after that." Santana's eyes were haunted. I noticed her pallor, and I was concerned by what she saw last night. I never wanted to see whatever made Santana Lopez look like that.

"It's funny, but ticket sales of her movie have gone up and her album is trending again. She's everywhere," she chuckled humorlessly. "I doubt she would see you, especially while she's like this."

"Can you at least try?" I pleaded. I couldn't explain why I needed to see her, just that I did.

She was conflicted. She wanted to respect Rachel's wishes regarding me, but I was also another dynamic. She knew the strange relationship the two of us shared. It was odd that we had the ability to make one another better people, surprising really given our history of constantly undermining and one upping the other. It took us both a long time before we stopped with the antics and became something like friends. The truth was we were similar in a multitude of ways from our mutual desire to be loved to the way we schemed and manipulated to get what we wanted.

Santana pursed her lips then briefly nodded. "I'll ask Fabray. Don't expect much. If she says to toss your ass out, I'll gladly do it."

"Wouldn't expect you to lose your touch San."

Her lips twitched as she attempted not to smile. That would feel almost like old times for her, and I knew she wasn't like Rachel. It would take a long time before Santana could ever consider forgiving me as a viable option. She was known to hold a grudge. Hell, it took her years to stop glaring Artie after he called Brittany stupid junior year. As for Rachel, the two of them had a complicated relationship I couldn't explain if I tried.

"Whatever," she turned away and headed down the hall. I stayed where I was, not particularly wanting to run into anyone else. God knows what Kurt would say. He was never a fan of mine. We'd had it out our senior year and while he relaxed a little around me when Rachel and I started dating, I knew he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The worst part was that he was right. He told me I was self-destructive, that I ruined everything good in my life. He said I would destroy Rachel along with me. I ignored him and promised it was different that time. While we got on for a time after that when shit hit the fan during our break-up, he made his feelings perfectly clear with his smug smile.

Well maybe it wasn't smug, but I saw in his eyes that he knew it would happen all along. I can't say that didn't hurt. I truly believed we were making progress in our friendship outside of Rachel. He rarely made a single cutting remark and most of the time it was in jest, which by far an improvement over his backhanded compliments he perfected as a high schooler.

Running in to him would likely result with a zero chance of me getting to see Rachel. I could already imagine what he would say if he were to see me. There would be accusations about me only wanting to hurt her yet again as I had so many times in the past.

I swept back the loose strands hanging in my face. If People could see me now, goodness knows what they would say. I was far removed from the glamorous actress Quinn Fabray.

"Hey Quinn," my eyes widened in shock. "I didn't expect to see you here. This is usually the part where I would hurt an insult at you, but I think we are past our days of being enemies."

I smirked and rolled my eyes. "If it isn't the illustrious Jesse St. James, come to kick me while I'm down. Santana got in a good shove."

He folded his arms, shaking his head. "Violence is beneath me."

"Uh… you egged our mutual ex-girlfriend."

He waved his hand passively. "That was a long time ago. It was hardly my idea either. Vocal Adrenaline had a thing about loyalty. Let's be realistic, I needed them. So crushing an egg on someone's head was a small price."

I shook my head, disgusted with his reasoning. "I don't know if I can agree with that."

"This coming from the girl who regularly slushied her."

"I never personally slushied her or anyone."

"Semantics. We are cut from the same cloth. I still don't know how I didn't realize you had a raging crush on her. It makes a lot of sense your weird fixation. I mean you literally gave her the worst ranking on the Glist."

My cheeks flushed at the reminder of my attempt to make myself feel better at the expense of others. "How did you know it was me?"

"Like I said," he made scissors with his fingers. "It was obviously not Rachel given her intense reaction and the other members of your little club weren't impressed with their rankings either. You, though, you reacted differently. You had a better reason than most. You were invisible after Finn dumped you and Puck proved incabable of being a serious boyfriend."

"Wow, you're smarter than I initially gave you credit for." His lips twitched. "Guessing she found it in that big heart of yours to give you what is it like your fiftieth chance?"

He scowled. It was ineffectual. I was unfazed by him. "You must be on your millionth then."

Ouch! I turned my head away. The old Quinn would've had a lot to say to him, but I wasn't that girl anymore who got off on making others feel small. It didn't feel good. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. I was curious as to what you would be doing here given we all know Rachel finally cut her losses and tossed you out."

I narrowed my eyes at him, inferring what he left out of his statement. He flinched and stumbled a bit. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You're still bitter she dumped you the second time around and barely gave you the time of day when you were sniffing around her again. Probably best that you are gay or she would reject you again, and we all know your precious ego can't handle that." He grit his teeth. "Look I'm not here to cause any trouble. I want to see her and then I'll be on my way."

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Just don't mess with her head more than you already have. She's got enough issues." With that he stalked off.

I exhaled, frustrated with the day. I was supposed to be sleeping as I had a 9 p.m. call time, and I was jet lagged. I rubbed my face tiredly when someone cleared their throat. It was to upmost relief to find Santana and not another one of Rachel's friends. "So what's the verdict?"

"She's agreed to see you."

I blinked at her, unsure of the words that came out of her mouth. I probably resembled Finn a little bit with how slow I was being. "Seriously?" She nodded her head, although her lips were pinched tightly. She wasn't pleased by Rachel's decision.

She sighed and signaled for me to follow her. "I don't know what it is with the two of you and all of your lesbian drama. A profession wouldn't even be able to figure out whatever twisted relationship you two share."

"It isn't for you to understand."

She stopped abruptly and pointed to a patient room just ahead. "She's there." She turned to look at me, her eyes soft and her face kind. "Don't hurt her. I think she's been waiting for you."

I nodded not prepared for what I was about to walk into, but I had to do it for the both of us. This wasn't how the Quinn and Rachel saga was supposed to end. I took some deep breaths and counted to ten before I continued the rest of the way. I could see her. I could do this. I needed to do this for my own sanity. I would always come back to her because she was the answer to so many things. She saved me from myself more times than I could ever count.

My hand reached for the knob, and I had to close my eyes as I pushed the door open. "Keep your cool Fabray."

"Quinn?"


	4. Let It All Go

**Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays! This chapter is a bit on the heavy side, but it does help move the story along. I promise it will be an HEA even if it doesn't seem like it right now.**

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Sadly, I wasn't allowed to remain alone as long as I preferred. Everyone felt the need to come in, issue disapproving looks, and in the case of my family inform me that we would be having a nice discussion when I was released from the hospital. Kurt could barely look at me without his baby blues tearing up.

I was on a suicide watch, but I had to wait for them to transfer me to the psychiatric ward. There wasn't an available bed at the moment, but the moment one opened, I would be moved. It was unlikely I would be leaving the hospital until the end of the week.

"I don't know why you're sulking."

I rolled my eyes. "Go away Santana. I'm not in the mood to receive a lecture from you." She had avoided me for most of the day, and I knew it was her way of trying to cope with what I had done. I knew she was still haunted by Dave Karofsky's attempt back in high school. It probably terrified her more to know someone she was close to would do that to themselves and she hadn't noticed any of the signs.

Prior to living with her, I mostly knew the persona she developed for the rest of the world. She was abrasive, vulgar, rude, and often unpleasant. However, she was the best person to have in your corner. She was loyal, protective, and cared more than she let people know.

She moved into my direct line of sight. "Good because at the moment, I'm not here to give you one." My brow furrowed in surprise and shock given what I knew about her. She wasn't the type to let something go. "We will be discussing it, however there's something else we have to talk about. It's sort of related."

"What are you talking about? What else could be relevant at this particular moment?" My patience was nonexistent with the constant influx of people in and out of my room. My privacy was gone. I supposed I couldn't be upset with them either.

Santana's eyes lowered for a second before she lifted them to meet mine. "I'm sure you've been told about your hospitalization making the news." I nodded warily. "Well it seems to have made an impact."

"What happened to the girl who just tells it like it is?"

She glared at me. "God you can still be so annoying even when I'm trying to help you." A few Spanish expletives slipped from her mouth. I glowered as she knew how I felt about the use of swearing. "Whatever midget. Fine you want the truth, Quinn is here."

My insides turned to ice and I was frozen. Did she just say Quinn is here? She can't see me like this. I don't want to see her. What will she even think of me? "What does she want?" My voice was devoid of emotion. I had to remain impartial. Quinn always had a way of getting in from the very beginning. I tried not to care. It was easier that way.

"She wants to see you idiota. What other reason would she have? I'll never understand what it is between the two of you. You literally fawned over her in high school and she bullied you so she wouldn't have to address her sapphic leanings."

"You're terrible. It is by far more complicated than your simplistic explanation. The only two who need to understand is myself and Quinn. It's no one else's business. Besides, it's not like I'm going running back into her embrace."

Her face said she didn't believe me for a second. Apparently, taking back a guy several times in high school even when he didn't deserve it was enough to judge me for the rest of my life. "I'm not here to tell you what you should do. If I were you, I would talk to her. She seems pretty cut up about it."

"Can't imagine why," I snarked.

"Don't be a bitch. I get you're still pissed about all the shit in the past, but for some unfathomable reason I know a part of you wants to see her. You're in love with her. You always have been and always will be. You know I would not advocate for her if I thought her presence would do more harm than good."

I dropped my eyes and lowered my shoulders suitably chastised about my less than stellar reaction. She wasn't wrong in her declaration about me wanting to see Quinn. I did. I had for the last three years. My pride and her pride were the number one reasons why we hadn't. "When did you start being the voice of reason?" It was like being in the twilight zone.

"Berry," she growled. She didn't really mean it. I learned over the years to not take offense to the things that came out of Santana's mouth. Most of them were automatic responses. Very rarely did she mean what she said, it was her way of showing affection as disturbing as it sounded.

The problem was that if I saw her, I would want to see her again. Quinn was like a drug. I could never get enough of her. "To be truthful, I'm petrified of seeing her after all this time. I forget when I'm in her presence, which isn't healthy."

Santana sighed and took a seat on the end of the bed. "You're Rachel Berry. You used to tell all the kids we went to school with how you were going to be a star. You constantly put yourself out there when no one appreciated you. You were admirable the first time you and Shelby met. I don't think I would've reacted the same way. You're brave and you can handle a meeting with Quinn. Have you thought that maybe she's feeling the same way?"

I had been called self-absorbed on more than one occasion by my peers. Sometimes I lost perspective and was unable to consider the feelings of others when evaluating a situation like now. Was it possible Quinn was terrified of seeing me too? Of course she was. I knew her better than most, and she was plagued by insecurities. It couldn't have been easy for her to come all the way here when she knew there was a good chance of running into Santana, Kurt, or my family. She toughed it out for me. Warmth spread in my stomach, and suddenly I wasn't as nervous as before.

"Tell her she can come in. I want to see her." I avoided her eyes.

She didn't need to say anything.

I watched as she slipped out and waited in anticipation for Quinn's arrival.

My heart quickened minutes later when I heard voices nearing my room. I recognized Santana's immediately, but couldn't really hear Quinn. I could practically feel her nerves though.

Hours or could've been seconds later, the handle on the door moved. I sucked in a breath and blew it out the moment the door opened to reveal Quinn. "Quinn?"

The first thing I noticed about her was the darkened locks. I liked it. It brought out the green in her eyes that were rimmed red and puffy, and she was dressed like an undergrad. She was my Quinn, the one who spent hours on a train to see my first Broadway show as many times as she could.

Her eyes were wide as she raked over my body. I wasn't exactly looking my best after my ordeal. My hair was indescribable and I could feel the make-up seeped in my pores. The crying hadn't helped, and I assumed I was close to resembling a raccoon instead of an A-lister.

Normally, I'd be annoyed that she hadn't uttered a single syllable upon her entrance, but I was oddly relieved she was speechless too. It was almost as if I had expected her to come all along. It was hard to resist the compulsion to try and help one another when they were drowning. Poor choice of words. "Luce," I whispered hesitantly when she still made no move to come further into the room or near me.

That snapped her out of her daze and instead initiated a chain reaction. A flurry of emotions flashed across her face in the span of seconds before settling on rage. Her body practically vibrated with it. "How could you do that? You can't do things like that. Do you know how many people care about you? Do you know what that would've done to everyone? To me?" Her voice cracked on the last syllable. I finally had to remove my eyes from her unable to look. The raw anguish in her voice nearly undid me. "You're fucking Rachel Berry." I winced.

I hated to be the cause of any sadness or worry in Quinn's life. It was something left over from our high school days, I could never quite shed. "I don't know what to say," I eventually said.

"Guess there's a first time for everything." So it was sarcastic Quinn. "What were you thinking?"

My body slid further into the bed at the heat of her stare. My eyes stung with unshed tears, but I couldn't cry, especially not in front of her. I blinked them back. "Have you ever been in a room full of people and still felt alone?" I was reminded that she hadn't always been popular and suffered a horrid fall from grace when news of her pregnancy broke out. Santana and Brittany were supposed to be her best friends, but chose not to support her. Puck was useless as usual and Finn was an idiot. The rest of the club cared about how the drama would affect the group dynamic, and admittedly, I hadn't considered Quinn's feelings at all and instead attempted to steal her boyfriend several times.

That stopped her short in the rant she was preparing in her head. The fight left her. Cautiously, she began to approach my bed. The air crackled around us and the two of us tensed. "All the time," she admitted as she plopped into the chair near my bed. "It was worse in middle school, but high school exacerbated the issue. My pregnancy was the loneliest time of my life even if I had an entire club behind me."

She wasn't close enough. I would take what I could get. I knew I wasn't supposed to want her this close. "Last night was amongst many I dreamt of my entire life. I practiced my speech growing up and imagined how it would feel to complete my EGOT. Half of the time, a lot of performers who've achieved that received honorary awards instead of competitive ones. I did it at the age of thirty. Yet, last night after the whole circus and the party at my house, I tried to genuinely feel the happiness I should have when they announced my name." A tear slipped. "I couldn't." I cried. "I couldn't feel anything. I turned on the tap and didn't bother to take off my insanely expensive dress. I didn't care. I kept thinking I was finally doing what all those kids in high school told me to do."

Her eyes were wet and I heard a sniffle.. I saw the yearning all over her face. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around me and never let go, to tell me I would get through this, but she was unsure of how receptive I would be to her touch.. I didn't even know how I would react if she were to do it. Part of me wanted her to cross the line.

"Did you go in there to intentionally… you know?" She couldn;t say the words. They pained her.

I shook my head. "I went to my room to get away from the congratulations and the adulation. I tried to give myself a pep talk in the mirror. It didn't work. All I kept thinking about was my failures and mistakes. The voices in my head sounded a lot like my former bullies. I would read the reviews for my movie intentionally seeking at the bad ones to show myself that no matter what I would always be that girl from Ohio who couldn't please." I buried my face in my hands. "It wasn't until this morning that it started to hit me what sort of damage I had done. I wasn't worthless."

"I don't want you to die." Her hazel orbs mesmerized me. They were so earnest. I believed her. She was always trying to save me from myself. "It would devastate me."

I licked my lips. "I miss you."

"I know."

"Sometimes I pick up the phone to call you and then it hits me that we don't talk anymore."

She bobbed her head in agreement. "It happens to me too. When I got my first starring role in a movie two years ago, I wanted you to be the first person I told. You always believed me capable of so much more. You never let me give up even when I massively screwed up or self-sabotaged myself."

It was hard to believe nearly fifteen years had passed since I first told her she was more than just a pretty girl. I wasn't lying either. Too many people underestimated her, told her that her life was over after she had a kid, and only viewed her as a pretty cheerleader who was doomed to become her mother. I knew from the day I met her that there was more to her than her frosty exterior and shallow behavior. It was a long process of pulling back layers to get to her core, but I discovered the best person I knew, my personal cheerleader.

"You really are," I sniffled. My emotions were all over the place. I didn't even know why I was crying anymore. "Never let anyone tell you aren't."

"I saw your movie and your show."

I bowed my head and smiled shyly. "I know you came to the show. Mr. Schue was there that day with his current Glee club. He said he swore he saw you there. He couldn't be entirely sure as it had been a while." I knew she had distanced herself during college from her glee days. I admit I wasn't as caught up with the other members as I had been in the past. My eyes lifted to catch her hazel ones. They were such a lovely color. They were greener today, maybe it was the darker hair after all.

Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. I wanted to reach out and grab one, but that was against the rules and my fear decided against it.

"I-" We both laughed. "You go first."

"No matter what has happened between us, I'll always support you Rach. I knew even when I convinced myself I hated you that you were going to be the best thing to come out of Lima, and I wasn't wrong. You are amazing and not just because of your talent. I couldn't imagine a world where you don't exist. I don't want to live in that, so you can't, you can't do that again. It would destroy me." Her face nearly crumbled as she did her best to keep her composure.

I choked back a sob, but it was futile as the tears began to fall at an alarming rate. "I'm scared."

"Why? You're the bravest person I know."

"No," I disagreed. "That's you."

She hid her smile, although I knew she was pleased. "How about we are both equally brave? You, Rachel Barbra Berry, are a rarity in a world that devours people and spits them back out. You never stay down for too long, and while this chapter isn't about roadblocks on your path to success, I think it'll be the most important in your eventual memoirs." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. She was teasing me. "In all seriousness, I would be surprised if you weren't anxious or terrified about the future. Nothing is ever certain, but you're a fighter. It's going to be tough. This is the chapter where you've got to make decisions. If you want a piece of advice from someone who's sort of been there, this is where you've got to be honest. You're going to find out things about yourself that you previously didn't know. Keep this in mind, It won't break you; it'll make you stronger than you ever were."

There was a reason I preferred Quinn's brand of helping over Santana's. While Santana was still honest, she was a lot more colorful too. She was overall supportive, but Quinn had a gentle hand unless she was absolutely frustrated. That was rare though and had only happened on a few occasions where I was being difficult unwilling to leave my fantasy version of life.

"Why do you always think so highly of me?" The question erupted out of me like lava. I couldn't hold it back.

Quinn was contemplative. She always thought of herself as a closed book, however I could read her expressions for the most part. Her brow would furrow in thought as her lips pinched together, and her eyes looked past you to somewhere else entirely.

"I suppose it's like the question of what came first, the chicken or the egg. You and I are two sides of the same coin. It's like when you asked if I hated you. I couldn't. And trust me, there were times where I really wanted to. It would've been convenient. While you're not perfect, you are at the same time. For a long time even before we were well acquainted, I thought of you as better. It's one of many reasons why I tried to put you down in high school."

I didn't want to ask the next question as it had the potential to hurt more than just me. It affected Quinn as well, however only she could give me the answer I desired. I looked at a point just past her shoulders to avoid eye contact. "Will I see you again?"

She licked her lips, which I knew was a nervous tick of hers. "I don't know Rach. We tend to make each other's life messy." Translation: I'm not good for you.

I sucked in my bottom lip, willing myself to not cry for the umpteenth time yet again today. I swear I've cried more today than I did all of high school. Quinn should've come with an emotional warning label. "That's bullshit and you know it." Her eyes widened. "Have you ever thought we just weren't ready for each other? I'm not saying now is a good time for obvious reasons." I needed a lot of professional help before I could focus on someone else besides myself. We were like ships in the night. "I can't let you go either. It sounds incredibly selfish, but I'm selfish. I won't apologize for that. You and I are alike at least as far as our personalities go. We tend to have opposite reactions. When you're scared, you push people away. When I'm scared, I try to hold them closer. We bury our issues in relationships and pretend nothing is wrong. It's where we went wrong in the past."

She pursed her lips and exhaled softly. "Did you ever think that we were just incompatible?"

"No."

"That was honest. How about this then, you work on yourself and I'll continue my own work, and we will see if our routes line up on the highway." What I loved about her was the way she understood me. She liked metaphors.

I wasn't satisfied with her solution, but also knew this was the closest Quinn would agree to a possible future together. Fighting her further on the topic would result in an absolute loss. No one would believe that Quinn was a dreamer and it was true, she wasn't. Lucy was. "I love you, Luce." Lucy was who she was when no one was looking.

"I know starshine." I wasn't bothered by the fact that she hadn't said it back as I knew she felt the same way I did. It was her way of trying to keep some distance. It was her preferred defense mechanism to avoid getting hurt.

"Suppose you have to go now?"

"It's for the best." I tried not to be dismayed by her upcoming departure. As she pushed herself up, Quinn hesitated briefly before determination set on her face. She leaned in so close that she made me dizzy. I shivered as her lips brushed against my cheek. My skin tingled in response, and I felt disappointed until she covered my mouth with her own, swallowing my surprise. My eyes slipped shut at the first tentative touch of her lips. Kissing Quinn Fabray was a magical experience. There was nothing to compare it to as she made one forget they had ever kissed anyone else. It was hypnotic.

Her hands drifted into my hair and I lost sight of the rest of the world. It was just the two of us somewhere in our own little slice of somewhere. Her tongue traced my lips and I opened my mouth to allow her access and she took advantage.

When we kissed I saw all the possibilities laid out before me. There was so much ahead for the two of us, more than I believed. I kissed her back pouring all of my emotions into this single kiss if it was to be our last at least for a while if not forever. I savored the taste of her lips on mine. I felt the stirrings of arousal awaken in me, and knew the kiss was coming to an end. She wrenched her mouth from mine leaving me lightheaded. It was hard to determine if it was the kiss or the lack of breath affecting me, or some combination of both.

She rested her forehead on mine. I opened my eyes to simply look at her, to take her all in. This close, I could see all of the freckles normally hidden by make-up on screen. It looked like she had gotten some sun and added to the collection. I wanted to memorize all of them. I adored the ones on the bridge of her nose, and had paid a lot of attention to them in the past. Her eyes were still closed as she relished these last few moments together.

Her lips brushed against mine as she stole one last kiss. My lips were left wanting when she gave a little nip before pulling away. Her eyes were bright and shiny, reflecting her happiness and sorrow. I could see it written in the planes of her face that her last words to me were going to be the ones I least wanted to hear and I braced myself.

"Let me go Rach. Everything going forward has to be for you. It can't be about me. As of now, we are the past. Our whole relationship started wrong and there is something to be said about timing. Do I regret our time?" Her lips quirked up. "Of course not. You were strong enough to love me and now you've got to be strong enough to let me go and love yourself." Her eyes glistened as she refused to let herself to fall apart.

I turned away unable to watch her walk out of my life again. My poor mutilated heart couldn't take it. Everyone I loved, left me in the end.

While her intentions were pure in coming to see me, the end result was agony. I was given a taste of what I desired most of all, but couldn't have.

When would I finally get to have it all? It seemed all these years later I still couldn't get it right.

As soon as I heard the door click shut, I buried my face into my pillow and wept. I shed tears for me and for Quinn. In the process of hurting myself, I managed to inflict more damage upon her. Hadn't I done enough to her? When would it stop? She was gone this time.

"Oh Rachel," I heard behind me.

I refused to lift my head, knowing that it would be a snotty, puffy, wet mess. I was aware of my status as an ugly crier. "Sh-she l-l-left me ag-again. It hurts."

Arms gathered me up and I buried my face into Shelby's chest as she rocked me. "It's okay baby." She must have seen Quinn leave. "I think she did the right thing for you and her." I pulled away angrily, but she pushed me back. "Shush, I know you believe otherwise, but I like Quinn. However, what you need to focus on is yourself. You have to be your first priority because if you can't put you first, why should you expect anyone else to?"

I hated mom logic. It was the most irritating part about having a mother after not having one for eighteen years. She took to parenting easily. In the beginning, she was hesitant about her role in my life, but then she happened to catch one of my diva fits. There were several discussions following that, especially after I walked out of the first one. She wasn't overly enthusiastic either when Quinn and I announced we were dating. It did create an interesting family dynamic that we would eventually have to explain to Beth, but I suspected the real issue was that she recognized Quinn had a lot of unresolved issues. She didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. To her credit, she never told me I was wrong.

"You really don't hate her even after everything?" My dads sometimes had mixed feelings about Ms. Lucy Quinn Fabray. They loved her, don't get me wrong, however neither appreciated the way she treated me in the past or how our relationship collapsed.

Shelby had plenty of reasons not to like her given she was planning to report her to child services after deceiving her to get an invite into her home. "No," she sighed. "I don't. She's a lost soul like you are. I know she's working on herself, and she would be awfully devastated if you don't do the same. It may never work out between you two." I bristled. "That doesn't mean you should give up on yourself. After your break-up, you shut yourself off from everything. You threw everything into your work in the hopes it would fulfill you, and your expectations have fallen short. Her vice was drinking and yours was working. You've worked yourself ragged and stopped living your life. You're a shell, honey."

I frowned at the comparison, not appreciating it at all. I would hardly classify Quinn's excessive drinking as the same as my working. "Stop frowning, overworking isn't healthy. You hardly sleep. Kurt told me. You barely eat.. I've also watched your interviews, and it's like you're a zombie. You've got a great show face, no doubt about it. Yet there's something that's equivocally Rachel Berry missing."

"I-well you're right. I haven't felt myself in a long time. I was going to agree to treatment anyway, but nice speech mom."

She flicked my head. "You're a brat." She kissed my hair. "I love you and I never want to see you like that again in my life. I think you took twenty years off of it."

"So you'll only live to like eighty that's still old."

My mom chose to ignore me. "I could always bring Santana in here."

"No, that's fine. I think we could use a break from one another. I think I've heard every swear word known to man and then some. Besides, she's likely reeling from Quinn's reappearance. Where are my dads and Beth?"

"Everyone went back to your house about an hour ago. I stopped by to say we'll be back later." The intensity of my guilt and shame nearly overwhelmed me. Everyone was still in their party clothes from my last night. My mother's mascara was slightly smudged and her hair was in a frizzy ponytail. I could see the tired circles under her eyes. "Will you be okay? I know Kurt will be back soon and Santana is still here." The concern in her eyes nearly did me in. I hated doing this to her.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm not planning another attempt." She glared at me sharply, not appreciating my nonchalance. "See you later."

She gave me one last look as if unsure about the veracity of my statement.

I knew it was definitely guilt I was experiencing. It was the predominant emotion warring inside of me. This was the worst thing I had ever done and I had done some horrible things in my life. I couldn't justify it, which made it all the worse. At least sending Sunshine to the crackhouse, I could rationalize to myself I did it for the team or telling Finn about the baby was the right thing to do even though both times I had selfish motivations. It would be a long time before anyone in my life would forgive or I would forgive myself for what I had nearly done.

Because in the end while life was temporary, death was permanent, an irreversible condition I had wished upon myself. I was going to get better. It would be a struggle, but in the end I would be a person I liked and could live with; that alone was worth everything.

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**I hope to post again before the New Year, but we will have to see. **


	5. Only You

**AN- Happy New Year! I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season. **

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"How are you adjusting to your medication?"

I shrugged, unsure of how to describe it. I wasn't entirely positive I felt an overall difference in my thinking, but I also didn't feel like I did a month ago either.

It was to my chagrin that I discovered a week into my stay that my psychiatrist thought it best to start me on antidepressants. To say I was reticent when I first arrived was an understatement. I outright refused the medication because surely therapy and all of the other activities at the treatment center would be enough. I hated the idea of feeling weak for needing any medicine to get me back to where I was.

It seemed as if I was proving to all those people who called me crazy for years right. I didn't like it. It made me feel like I was a failure and that hit far too close to home. Too many years of struggling came to mind, and I hated the reminder of what my life used to be like. I used to say it was character building, but somewhere along the way, it also became part of my own destruction.

What I failed to see was that I had lost something fundamental by refusing help for so long. I lost myself. I would stare in the mirror trying to find anything that resembled strong, confident Rachel Berry, yet all I could see were my own flaws.

"Rachel, remember we have to be honest with ourselves."

I bit my lip and closed my eyes. It was probably the worst part about our sessions. There was no room for lying. I had to tell her every little detail about my sleeping, my eating, how I filled my day. We met every day except on the weekends. There was also group therapy on top of individual sessions.

I sighed, nodding my head in defeat. "It's weird. I should elaborate, huh?" She smiled kindly. Dr. Roberts wasn't pushy. She let me go at my own pace, which was different compared to the therapy I received as a teen. "I feel like I have energy to do things again. Last week I hated the thought of having to get out of bed to attend morning yoga, but you know today I was the first one there. I hadn't woken up early in such a long time. It was one of my defining characteristics for a long time. I had a schedule."

"Why don't you tell me about this schedule?"

She was open and warm, it was hard not to share every single detail. She listened to me. While it was what I paid her for, we had also formed a friendship in our time together. "My dads always thought it was a bit insane and Type A of me, but I woke up at five every morning. I would either work out on my elliptical or go for a five mile run. Then I would prepare a nutritional breakfast full of protein, take a shower, spend time getting ready for school, and then I would arrive at school half an hour early to get in more practice time in the auditorium."

Dr. Roberts was thoughtful as she carefully regarded me. She went to great lengths to conceal her thoughts so as not to compromise herself. "Would you say you felt as if you had purpose?"

"The short answer would be a resounding yes." I felt the dip in my brows as I thought about who I was fifteen years ago. "I knew what i wanted even if it wasn't always the right thing for me." I had piqued her curiosity. Many of our sessions focused on more current events than past ones that may have attributed to present behaviors and triggers. "I've sort of mentioned Quinn, but I never told you that we technically started when I was involved with someone else."

_It started with a bathroom. I tried not to think about the location too much, or why all of our prominent moments occurred in that specific one. I was having an anxiety attack over all of the pressure I was experiencing. My mom and I were starting the tentative process of getting to know one another, but I was struggling to trust her after the last time she left me after telling me I wasn't what she wanted. All of my auditions were coming up. I had NYADA, Julliard, AMDA, and NYU. There was Glee Club to stress about, especially as everyone was having their own crises that year. _

_Lastly, there was my -inn situation. I tried not to feel guilty about calling it that, but there were two different -inns and they were pulling me in two directions. The last thing I expected Finn to do was propose to me, nor did I expect to find myself telling him yes. It was most concerning, and probably the first time I found myself not recognizing who I was. The me two years ago was certain of her place in the world, and knew I didn't need anyone at my side to be successful. Finn was this anchor holding me down and refusing to let go when the end of the journey was in sight. _

_Then there was the Quinn of it all, and perhaps the true reason for Finn's restraints. From previous experience, her taciturn nature complicated the dynamics of our friendship/relationship or whatever. There was always more than was said with her, and I was slow, perhaps even deliberately obtuse in interpreting the looks she gave me. She kept telling me I was meant for more, but it didn't feel like that with each passing day and the mounting pressure heaped on me. _

_It all started during rehearsals for regionals. Finn was discussing potentially moving up the date for the wedding to after regionals, especially if we were victorious. It would feel like high. "What do you say, Rach?" His eyes were so earnest and he had the goofy, school boy smile of his. "We could get married at the courthouse."_

_The fact that it wasn't the slightest bit romantic bothered me. There was a discomfort in my stomach as he continued talking. "I mean we should just get married. We can figure all the other stuff later." Had he forgotten that we didn't have a place to live? Or how our mini cohabitation experiment was a disastrous failure. "Maybe we don't go to New York right away, and I can work at the tire shop and you could get a job." _

_I then identified the tightening feeling in my stomach, it was nausea. I could feel it building and I tried to push back the bile in my throat. "Please Finn, I don't think I can discuss this at the moment."_

_"__Why not?" He whined. "It would be good. We can just be together all the time." _

_What was I doing? Why was I not discontinuing this engagement? Hadn't I received my answer about the reality of our relationship? _

_I began to pace as the questions mounted and Finn kept talking. "I mean you haven't changed your mind, and why are we waiting? Your dads gave us their blessing." _

_I wanted to scoff at how naive he was being. If he thought that's what happened, he was as hopeless as everyone said. My dads privately made it clear where they stood on the subject of teen marriage, but would support me if I felt it necessary to tie myself before I even got started. _

_Seriously, what was I doing? How had it gotten to this point? I couldn't go through with this. I didn't know how to be a wife. I wasn't even sure if I was in love with Finn still, which was sickening. I was disgusted with myself for thinking it, but part of it rang true. I pushed that aside. What would he think of me if I called it off now? He was making all of these plans. He wanted to be with me. It wasn't as if I had guys lining down the block to date me. Finn wouldn't be that awful of a choice to spend the rest of my life with it. Sure we barely had anything in common outside of glee, and he didn't have an abundance of ambition or direction in life. But there was love, wasn't there? _

_I clutched my chest as I felt my heart begin to race. Was the room getting warmer? "I want to start our lives. You're the best thing in my life and the only thing I'll always be sure about."_

_Oh god, I was going to be eternally damned. Before he could utter another syllable, I fled the auditorium. While it wasn't unusual for me to leave in the middle of a practice, I had never gone running from one. It would've been irresponsible as captain to abandon my team. _

_I rushed into the nearest girl's bathroom unable to even stomach the idea of Finn attempting his version of comfort. Unable to hold back, I rushed into a stall and heaved until there was nothing left to dispel from my stomach. My face stung from the combination of sweat and tears as I sunk to my knees. The pungent scent of vomit invaded my nostrils, which caused my stomach to turn over again. I purged it all from my system. _

_I froze at the sound of the door, hoping whoever it was did their business and quickly exited. The last thing I needed or wanted was for someone to see me in this sad, pathetic state. I had no one but myself to blame for my circumstances. _

_"__Rachel?" _

_Oddly, I was relieved to discover it was Quinn. I couldn't explain when our friendship had become this. I was still constantly amazed someone of her caliber chose to have me as her friend. It was baffling. I unlocked the stall and leaned back against the wall, ignoring entirely that I was sitting on the floor of a public restroom. _

_Quinn glanced once at me before heading to the sink. She wet a paper towel and then helped me to clean up. "Is everything okay? You don't look well, and I couldn't help but notice that you seemed distressed."_

_She was a mystery to everyone. She was aloof, graceful, brilliant, distant, charismatic, athletic and outgoing. She maintained the perfect balance of each, yet no one truly knew anything about her. No one knew how insecure the girl with the golden hair and shining hazel eyes was. I saw the worry, sympathy, and something I couldn't identify swirling in those orbs of hers. They didn't know her coldness was a way to keep people from getting too close and ultimately disappointing her in the end. _

_"__How'd you know I was here?" I said instead avoiding the knowing look in her eye. _

_Quinn was perceptive enough to take the hint, something my fiancé wasn't. "I had a feeling." I didn't need a further explanation. We shared an unexplainable connection that neither of us felt like talking about because it had the potential to change things between us. We couldn't acknowledge it as neither of us was ready. _

_"__I'm not terribly surprised. We both have spent a lot of time upset in this bathroom." She crinkled her nose. _

_I tried to ignore how adorable it made her appear. I attempted not to notice a lot of things about the elusive Quinn Fabray. "What did Finn say to you?"_

_It was a conversation i didn't want to have with her as I was well aware of her feelings on the subject. She made it fairly clear she wasn't going to support us, and I didn't want her to know that I secretly agreed with her about the whole marriage business. A smug Quinn did funny things to my insides. Yet, I was sure she wouldn't actually be smug about this if I told her about it. She wasn't the former head cheerleader who enjoyed taunting the students of McKinley and making sure everyone knew their place in the food chain. _

_Tears filled my eyes because I was the worst person in the world. "I'm a terrible person."_

_"__No, you're not," she frowned. "Did Finn tell you?" Her eyes darkened as they always did at the mention of Finn. _

_I shook my head. "No," I informed her. "But…" I licked my lips nervously. "I can't marry him. I know I said yes to him, but at the time I was confused about everything. He's the only person who has wanted me without any ulterior motives. What if I never find someone like that again? I'm not like you. You're Grace Kelly and I'm Judy Garland."_

_She didn't like the comparison too much at least that was what I thought. "Why do you do that?"_

_"__What?"_

_"__Doubt yourself. It seems to come easily to you. I mean I know I'm insecure, but you're Rachel Berry. You're the girl who ambitiously performed __Don't Rain On My Parade__ as a sophomore at the midnight hour. You didn't let what Shelby do to you affect your performance at Regionals." She scowled, her feelings on Shelby more than clear. Neither of us wanted to really touch that topic. "You've convinced yourself you need Finn. You don't. He drags you down. He's floundering and is holding onto whatever he can to keep afloat. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you can envision your whole life with Finn?"_

_I looked away, the words unable to leave my lips. "What do I do?" _

_"__I can't tell you that. It's not my place. You've got to figure it out for yourself. As for the whole no one else will ever want you bit, I don't think you've noticed how people stare at you. Stacy Johnson, an underling on the Cheerios has asked more than once for your number." While her face said one thing, her eyes were conveying something else entirely. If I were to guess, I would say she was jealous. It didn't make any sense. _

_I blushed. It was hard not to. "Don't kid around."_

_"__I'm not. You've never given yourself enough credit. You're beautiful."_

_I ducked my head bashfully at the compliment. It was high praise coming from someone who mainstreamed troll and treasure trail. "You don't have to say that."_

_What came next was something I could've never imagined even in my wildest dreams. Trust me, I had had some questionable ones starring Quinn that I pretended never happened. _

_Quinn took a step closer and I could see the deep green of her eyes. Up close, she was even more stunning, there truly weren't words to describe her. I'll never know why I did it, but I unconsciously took a step back, confounded and uneasy about what was happening. Normally it was my persistence that resulted in such close proximity, but this was all her. I glanced once again at her eyes, and found myself taken about at the transition to predator. I realized too late when I hit the wall that I was the prey. This wasn't Queen Bee, Head of the Cheerios I'll squash you like a bug look either. If I was reading her correctly, it was desire. _

_"__Quinn," it was breathier than I intended. I didn't want her to know she was having an effect on my ability to function and converse like a normal person. _

_She licked her lips as her eyes darted down to my lips. She was so close. I could feel the warmth of her body trickle across my skin. Her hands cupped my face before she hesitated. It didn't last long as I decided to close the gap between us. Her mouth moved belatedly in response as if not fully conscious of her own actions. We were both damned at that point. _

_My initial thought was about how soft her lips were and how they fitted perfectly against mine like two puzzles pieces coming together. Finn likened kissing Quinn to fireworks, but this was like seeing stars. The expanse of the universe opened up for me as Quinn's tongue traced my lips. _

_Quinn Fabray was returning my kiss. We were kissing and it was better than any boy I had kissed in my life. The tension drained from my body, as all thoughts of Finn, Shelby, show choir, everything just disappeared into an abyss. _

_She was so warm. I couldn't get enough of her and opened my mouth to her advances. Our tongues met in the middle and dueled for control. I let her win unwilling and unable to fight her anymore. She tasted faintly of mint and vanilla. Her hands threaded themselves in my hair as my arms encircled her waist bringing us closer together. She pressed me further into the wall and I moaned in response. Desire pooled in my sex. _

_Regaining my senses, I wrenched my mouth away with some difficulty. I wasn't sure who was more disappointed by my choice, but we were approaching dangerous territory. We both had reputations as cheaters and this wouldn't help either of our consciences. _

_We had cheated with and on the same boy, and the thought wasn't helping my current guilt over what we had done. The worst part was my guilt wasn't over the act itself. It was that those precious minutes felt more intimate than anything I had experienced in my life. It was definitely enough to send me spinning. _

_"__So options…" I chuckled nervously. _

_She nodded. "I probably shouldn't have done that." She was stricken by what we did. I wasn't sure if it was because of the implications for her sexuality or that she helped me cheat. _

_My face fell because once again I was the girl who didn't get her glass slipper moment. "If you want I can forge-" _

_She cut me off with a brush of her lips. It wasn't with the same intensity as before, but it made its' point. "Rachel, I've harboured a massive, gay crush on you since we were freshmen. I'm still not entirely comfortable with you know…" she waved her hands around. It was so Quinn. It was another thing that made her so cute. She would get flustered and lose the ability to articulate. "However, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that a large part of my opposition to this jaunt down the aisle was because of my feelings for you."_

_I felt my skin flushing at the turn of events. It was out of the realm of possibility that someone of her caliber was attracted to me of all people. "I don't understand." _

_Her face softened and her eyes held so much affection, I nearly turned away unable to withstand it. It was impossible. It certainly put a new spin on all of our altercations over the years and had me questioning my own reactions. _

_There was a strong possibility I wasn't as straight as I believed myself to be, and I didn't know what to do with that. When I developed my first crush on a boy, I certainly ran with it. While I loved my dads, I didn't want to hear the ignorant remarks of bigots if I turned out like them. It sounded terrible when phrased like that, however I had lived my whole life in this town. Our house was repeated egged and TP'd. One year homophobic slurs were spray painted on the garage. The police were negligible and attributed the fault as my fathers for not following the norm. It was a relief in the end to know I wouldn't have to deal with it from the aspect that my fathers lifestyle choices influenced my own. _

_"__Rachel I can feel you thinking too hard over there. Trust me, it wasn't my intention to have you question your entire existence, only to let you know that there's a whole out there away from Finn. What you have now is fine if you're in high school, but you would self-destruct away from this atmosphere where your biggest concerns are school and show choir. You want different things and there's not anything wrong with that."_

_It was perhaps why I avoided Quinn after she vehemently protested the wedding. If there was anyone able to put a stop to our nuptials, it was her with logic and reason. _

_I laid my head on her shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of vanilla. She smelled better than anyone. It was my own personal ambrosia. "Why do you have to be right?"_

_She sighed and ran her fingers through my hair. "I don't know that it's I'm right more than I know you. We both know your reasons for accepting are less than pure, and while he's not consciously aware of it, his reasons for asking aren't either. Like all of us he's scared and nervous about the future."_

_"__You don't seem scared." I mumbled into her skin. _

_Her chest rumbled with laughter. "Of course I am. There's no sense in panicking though. It'll come whether we want it to or not. No one says a new beginning has to be an ending. We are simply going to the next chapter."_

_"__In this chapter are we still friends?" I was desperate for her answer. I had worked tirelessly for three years to be her friend, which I supposed was telling. I hadn't put that much effort into any of my romantic endeavors. _

_"__Rach, I think even if I said no, you would convince me otherwise or do something crazy."_

_I wanted to object, but she wasn't wrong either. I poured. "No fair, you know me too well." _

_Then with abject horror at a sudden realisation I pulled away. "Quinn, you kissed me when I had puke breath." _

_She shrugged. "It's fine."_

_Her casual brush off made me think of Finn. When I had the flu a few weeks before, he refused to be anywhere near me and simply went get well texts. I didn't even warrant a phone call. Then upon coming back to school, it was another week before he deemed it okay to kiss me. I told myself I wasn't offended by his caution, yet it made me wonder what our marriage would look like. _

_"__Sometimes," all the time, "I think you're the best person even if you don't let everyone else see this side of you." _

_"__Only you." _

"You were engaged at seventeen." Dr. Roberts was speechless. "There were some concerning details in that story you shared. I'm not even sure you realized them. First of all, you were tying your sense of self worth on whether or another person desired you. Why?"

I opened and closed my mouth a few times unsure of an appropriate reply. I moistened my lips. "Living in Lima with two gay fathers excluded me from a lot of things growing up. Then there was the fact that I wasn't a traditional beauty. I was particularly insecure about my nose. People ignored my presence and when they weren't, they threw slushies and calling me cruel names. I saved all of my tears for when I was at home because I couldn't let them know what's they were doing affected me."

"How does Finn play into this?" I suspected she knew the answer, but this was another moment for personal development.

I blew out air, knowing how narcissistic this made me sound. "He made me feel special, okay?"

She hid her smile. I still saw how her lips twitched in amusement. "Is there something wrong with not feeling special?"

"I was ostracized by my peers and while I excelled in performing arts, it didn't translate to popularity at school. I was still a loser. I once told my show choir coach that being part of something makes you special. Being in a relationship with Finn made me feel special."

She didn't know what to say, which was just as well given our time was up. "Rachel, I have homework for you. I want you to think about why you don't or didn't feel special on your own. After all, you were the one who mentioned your talent. Why wasn't that enough for you?"

"See you tomorrow." She had given me food for thought. It was part of what Will Schuester tried to teach me, although it was difficult to take the man seriously given the state of his life at the time.

Special was relative. By all accounts every individual was special in their own way. So why did I need others to make me feel special, to feel good about myself? Realistically speaking, it still wasn't enough in the end as my old insecurities came rushing back when the highs of my success wore off. It came back to my need for validation. I spent so much time in obscurity, wanting someone, anyone to see me. My dads hardly counted either. It was in their nature to reassure me.

The problem I realized was that when I was afraid of not being 'special', I tended to self sabotage. An example that immediately comes to mind is Sunshine. I felt threatened by her talent because it had the potential to rival my own, and I feared everyone discarding me like yesterday's news. Instead I hurt our club, not just because we lost that year, it went deeper than that. I never fully regained their trust until the end. Everyone knew the lengths I would go to so I could remain the lead. I justified my actions by telling myself and everyone else it was an inactive crackhouse as if it made any difference to what I did to Sunshine. I was threatened and jealous, particularly when they heaped loads of praise onto her. No one had ever championed me like that except when they needed me.

In my haste to be 'special' how many people had I hurt? My actions certainly no longer felt worth it when I look back upon all the carnage I left in my wake.


	6. Chainsaw

_Three Years Ago _

I was soaked and not in a pleasurable way either. I was drenched head to toe after Santana shoved me into my pool. I was ashamed to admit I hadn't seen it coming.

"You fucking bitch," she shouted at me. "All you had to do was not be an asshole. It isn't like she had the highest standards. Why do you ruin everything you touch?"

My head popped up out of the water as I pushed my hair out of my face. I hesitated to get out, not out of fear of Santana, but because I would have to deal with my new reality and for fear that I would do something I would later come to regret. I also didn't need crap from Santana of all people. For her to lecture me, it was comical.

"It's not what you think." It sounded weak to my ears, so I could only imagine what she heard.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Puta you must think I'm an idiot. No one can misconstrue something like that, but it wasn't even really that. It's that."

I didn't have to turn my head to know where she was pointing. My bar was well stocked and frequently used. I had a glass of whiskey in hand before she smacked it to the ground. The glass shattered everywhere. It was expensive. "I don't drink that often," I muttered, tasting the whiskey and lies on my lips.

Santana was in my face upon my exit from the pool. "You drink all the goddamn time. You've been late to rehearsals and set because of freaking hangovers. You got a citation for public intoxication. You host those stupid parties with all the vapid and empty people you've surrounded yourself with and then make up excuses for why you can't ever visit. She agreed to move in with you after you begged her. She uprooted her whole life to please you and to make it work." I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out what she was saying. "Look at me Q, you've become someone I don't think even you like. You've officially become a copy of your parents. You've lost your individuality and resemble all of the other fake people here. Congrats. I hope you enjoy it all."

My lips trembled as I forced back the sob trying to rip out of my chest. "You don't know anything. I-I'm not like them."

She cackled. It was harsh sounding. There was no humor in her demeanor. I saw only pity. She knew how to strike to weaken an opponent. In many ways, she understood me better than I knew myself.

"You're the spitting image. You don't even know how far you've fallen. Look at you justifying alcoholism and this lifestyle you seemingly embraced with open arms. None of those people are really your friends, and if you believe they are, then you're more delusional than I ever thought. You fell down the Hollywood rabbit hole. You've lost all of your authenticity and originality by trying to fit in. You're doing what you've always done."

I turned my away unable to handle the veracity of her words. She was wrong. I would know if I had changed. "Where is she?" I whispered desperately.

"She packed up her shit and left. She doesn't even know I'm doing this. She told me to leave it be."

"Since when did you become Rachel's bitch? Here you are lecturing me, but what about you? How long are you going to pretend that you weren't waiting for me to fuck up so you could swoop in?"

It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew that. I had crossed a line the moment the words crossed my lips.

"You're a heartless bitch Quinn Fabray. You'll never have happiness because you don't deserve it. You've got the Midas touch of destruction. Good fucking luck in your ice fortress surrounded by people don't give a shit about you and never will. It's freshman Quinn all over again. I'm done with your bullshit. If you want to ruin your life, I'm not going to watch. Fix your shit. No one is going to be there to do it for you any longer."

No one being Rachel.

She was gone.

She had left for good.

There was no coming back.

I drove her away.

I was alone.

Again.

I didn't know how long I stood there dripping before I went inside. I hardly registered my wet state until I began to shiver as coldness seeped into my bones. Instead of going upstairs to shower and change, I wrapped myself in the blanket draped over the sofa. I couldn't stop shaking, and it wasn't from the cold either. "Oh my god," I cried.

Tears blurred my eyesight as I unleashed everything I had been holding back since Rachel texted me earlier. My body shook with the force of my sobs and it wouldn't stop. They kept coming. I couldn't stop. I had lost her. She wasn't coming back or forgiving me this time. I broke her heart. I broke my heart. I didn't fight for her. I dismissed and ignored her when she voiced her concerns, waving it all of.

"Ahhh," I threw the closest thing to me, which happened to be the remote. It wasn't enough to pacify the rage building within me. There was some satisfaction in watching it break apart against the wall.

As I glanced around my living room, I noticed all of the little Rachel touches. While it was really my house, I let Rachel go crazy with the decorating. I picked out most of the furniture, but she added all of the little knick knacks that turned a house into a home. There were framed pictures of us and pieces of art she thought brightened up the place. She picked out the throw blanket wrapped around me. I inhaled and completely lost it when her scent overwhelmed me.

I wailed and pounded the sofa. While it didn't do the damage I wanted to inflict, I just needed to do something with my fists. The whole place reminded me of her and again I was forced to accept she wasn't coming back. There were items missing that she had brought with her.

"RACHEL! Please just come back. I need you."

I thought I was incapable of loving so deeply when I was a teenager. It seemed impossible as none of the boys I dated interested me beyond what their status could do for me. Puck didn't count for anything and was a mistake all around. It wasn't until Rachel returned my kiss that I began to understand desire. The moment she maneuvered herself into my lap, burying her face in my neck, I knew protection. When her hand slid into mine as we walked the streets of New York, I felt content. As we spent our first night together locked in each other's arms, the whole world simply faded away, and the intimacy of it all nearly overwhelmed me. This was a relationship. It was love. Someone loved me.

While she acknowledged my appearance, she told me, it was me that attracted her, the whole package. "A pretty face only gets a person so far Quinn. There's more to you, and I don't care if I'm the only person who sees it. You're beautiful." I was taken back to a long ago night where my hand collided with her cheek, yet she was the one comforting me.

She had broken me, or maybe I had broken her. What does one do after their heart has been smashed into tiny pieces and scattered by the wind? How would I recover?

Rachel had touched parts of me I didn't know existed. She gave me a chance when everyone else had washed their hands of me. She believed that I was a good person. She had given me the gift of her love, and I only proved to her in the end that all those people were right in the end.

My mind continued to cycle through various emotions never settling on a specific one for long as I tried to escape the tidal wave heading straight for me. A part of me yearned for the destruction it would unleash on me and hoped it would cleanse my soul, washing away the evidence of my sins on my soul.

As I succumbed to sleep after my emotional rampage, a calmness the likes of which were unknown to me, washed over me. It settled me. My mind cleared. I could see the endless possibilities of the future stretched out before me. There was something ahead for me.

I put a band-aid over it. It was wound that pulsed with blood, so red, so vibrant, and it coated every inch of my gaping wound. My trauma wasn't gone, but I could hide it.

As I climbed into bed, it was the first time I fully acknowledged that Rachel was instrumental in my greatest happiness and in my greatest pain. No one else could hurt me as badly as she had because I refused to give them the power. From the very beginning, she was my weakness. I gave her the keys to the gate and let her in. Only someone on the inside could wreck me.

_Walk in the house, lights are off_

_In the closet by the door, there's your coat_

_I wasn't thinking of you before_

_Too many rooms in this house, so I keep going out_

_What the hell is that about?_

_We gotta find a way to be okay_

In the beginning, it was the silence that bothered me the most. While Rachel wasn't as talkative as she was as a teen, she was still loud. Everything she did was loud, not in a noisy sort of way. More that she filled in silences whether by thinking, turning a page, her constant shifting, or just her breathing. I was comforted by the knowledge I was no longer alone.

Coming home after her left me feeling empty. There was no one waiting there for me with a sympathetic smile or flirty looks with dinner on the table. No longer was there someone to watch movies with and discuss the plot and characters.

It was dark and loneliness echoed in the halls. A deep sigh escaped me as I shrugged out of my jacket. Rachel used to be there to tug it off of me and usually got handsy. I froze at the sight of my hall closet and blinked several times. There hanging between all of my jackets and coats was one of Rachel's. I had seen her wear it on more than one occasion. How could she have forgotten it? Then again, she had kept most of her clothes upstairs.

I backed away, stumbling into the wall. Part of me wanted to see if it still smelt like her. I had been doing okay. Maybe not a whole person, but there was an established routine I followed. It was a distraction of sorts to stop myself from thinking about her. Thoughts of her had the ability to consume me, and I was doing my best to get over her even if I knew it was an impossible feat.

"Fuck," I swore as I stubbed my toe. "Damn you, why are you doing this to me?" I wasn't the greatest human being, but this was absolute agony. It was torture having pieces of her here. Some days I could almost convince myself she would walk through the door again and give me another chance.

I could hear her phantom laughs ringing in my ear. I would see her curled up in the reading chair or sorting the laundry. She was everywhere. I was constantly reminded of her.

_When I get home, TV on_

_Drink in my glass, better make it strong_

_Some nights wanna fill this space_

_The tight dress and a pretty face_

Some nights were easier than others, but others were pure hell. I wasn't perfect. I was a complete miss if I were to be honest. After leaving set every night, I would arrive home and plant myself in front of the TV with a bottle of scotch or bourbon, or whatever filled my fancy that night. I found comfort in anything that could make me forget even for a little while. It made the endless days and nights without her slightly more bearable, and I didn't have to think about how empty my life really was.

I didn't have to think about Santana being correct about the people I had been associating with. They were using me for the clout. They were increasing their own followers and acquiring agents, and it was like high school all over again. No one cared about me. They only wanted the Quinn Fabray that could elevate them to a higher status.

On the nights where I couldn't handle being alone, I sought solace from the company of a woman. I would pick them up in bars. It wasn't that difficult. Most of them were a blur. I couldn't even remember their names in the morning.

What I did feel in the morning was the churning of shame and regret. I shamelessly used those women to fill a void in me. I took what I wanted from them without thinking. I was searching for something, but I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that it couldn't be filled, no matter what I tried.

"Uh… I have to be at work soon, and I really don't feel comfortable leaving anyone in my home." Morning afters were uncomfortable. It was in the light of day where I had to confront myself. I hated what I was seeing, yet I couldn't stop. There was just this gaping hole inside of me that refused to close.

The girl with her big brown eyes (the reason why I picked her) glanced away shyly as she attempted to cover herself. "Oh, okay, um yeah, uh I'll just go get dressed and get an Uber. Thanks." Her cheeks were pink and she was avoiding eye contact with me. She was another casualty on my list of fuck ups.

"The bathroom is through there."

"Thanks." Her voice was smooth like honey. It was warm like the sun, but it wasn't the one I wanted to hear.

I felt like shit. I was a real asshole. I had accused Santana and Puck in high school of using others to satiate themselves without caring about their feelings, and here I was doing the same thing. I had used this girl and now I was kicking her to the curb like she was nothing after all.

I had finished getting dressed when she finally came back out. She smiled bashfully at me, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. It wasn't the right shade. The fact that I kept comparing her made it all the worst. She shouldn't have to come up short every time. She was definitely better off forgetting me. I couldn't give her anything.

"If you ever want to, you know meet up again, here's my number." She scribbled it down on a notepad and left it on top of my dresser.

I was the absolute worst. When had I become this person? It was supposed to make me feel something, but at the end of the day, I felt nothing. Those girls I picked were mere imitations, only reminding me of what I no longer had.

_Keep finding things that you left on purpose_

_Did you plan that your timing's perfect?_

_Gotta find a way to be okay_

**My** **Journal**

**Four months have passed since she's left me. It was a week later that I discovered she fled back to New York. She had to put 3000 miles between us. Nothing hurt more than that. It felt like a kick to the chest to know that she couldn't even remain in the same city. She went back to a place where she felt relatively safe from me.**

**The first time I tried to call her, I thought it was a fluke. It was when I tried to call her multiple times that I found out her line had been disconnected. When I went to social media to attempt to contact her that way, I was blocked. She had also told her followers she was taking a break from social media for the time being.**

**The tabloids posted the occasional photo of her on the streets of New York. She looked good. It's a continuing battle inside of me as I can't decide whether or not I'm happy for her for moving on, or hate how she doesn't seem to be struggling like me?**

**Yesterday, I found one her favorite books tucked into the bookcase. I doubt she was thinking about her books when she packed. There were other things she forgot like one of her copies of Funny Girl. I watched it and cried. It was with heavy heart that I began to realize I was the Nick to her Fanny. I made all of the promises and inevitably broke them. I wanted to be something I'm clearly incapable of.**

**Whenever I find something of hers, I tuck it into a box. In a way, that's what I've done with my feelings. I have to pack them into a box and put them away. I don't want to feel like this any longer. There are pieces missing. Huge chunks of me are gone. Maybe they never existed at all. All I know is…**

**I'm broken.**

_Maybe I'll just take a chainsaw to the sofa_

_Where I held your body close for so long, so long_

_I'm gonna break all of the china_

_'Cause it's just one more reminder you're gone, you're gone_

My breaking point came the day I destroyed my house to rid myself of all the reminders of her. I didn't set fire to it, but I did throw a lot of things. I wanted to release all of the anger and aggression that had been building for months. I hated seeing everything that made me think of her. I despised the stupid rug where we made love the day she moved in with me. I avoided the couch where we cuddled, spent all of our time together, and where I kept picturing her sweaty body pressed tightly to mine as our bodies moved in tandem.

It was seven months post break-up when Rachel had been photographed with a new partner. They held hands as they walked the streets of London. She was radiant. She had undergone slight changes in her appearance in the last few months. She chopped off her soft waves and traded it in for a shoulder length cut. Tight jeans replaced the sinfully short skirts she was known for. Vintage t-shirts replaced her vintage cut dresses. This was a new Rachel.

There was even a picture of them kissing before getting into a car. I scrolled through that one, unable to stomach the sight of it any longer. It was a punch to the gut.

So I destroyed what we built together. It was time to finally rid myself of Rachel Berry.

Fuck fate or destiny, it was time to take my future into my own hands. Rachel moving on was the push I needed all along.

I checked myself into rehab during the summer hiatus and spent two months cleaning myself up. I sold my house and any furniture that wasn't ruined. I was going to start anew.

This wasn't the end of Quinn Fabray. I was reminded of all those months ago when Santana had told me I had become like my parents. She was right. I let my bitterness ruin me from the inside and nearly destroyed my life in the process. But no more, there wasn't room for excuses any longer.


End file.
